


delicate

by orphan_account



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: (you know how Tsukiyama is), Brief Mentions of Cannibalism, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, also light bondage, and dick sucking, blowjobs ahoy, you know how Tsukiyama is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki sucks Tsukiyama's dick; Tsukiyama sucks Kaneki's dick. That's it, that's the plot. Set post-Aogiri, sometime in the six month timeskip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	delicate

**Author's Note:**

> for highviscosity, who had a bad day yesterday, and for the tsukikane fandom, who is in desperate need of fic.

The knots are very secure; still, Tsukiyama tests his weight against them for a third and final time, satisfied when they don’t give, when Kaneki hums a noise of content from above him.

They both know that Tsukiyama could free himself if he wanted to. The point is that he doesn’t. And though Kaneki had made vague excuses about wanted to keep Tsukiyama easily secured, Tsukiyama knows that there’s something more carnal about it.

“It’s because I’m _magnifique_ like this,” Tsukiyama had said, holding his wrists above his head for Kaneki to bind, naked and unabashed. “Completely at your mercy, ready to be devoured. Tell me, Kaneki-kun, will you one day return the favor?”

“No.”

Kaneki had sounded flat and unflinching, his reply immediate, complete dismissal of Tsukiyama’s desires. Despite that, Tsukiyama can feel Kaneki hard against him and knows that Kaneki _wants_ , unconsciously at least. It thrills him, some part of him that longs to _submit_ , to bare his throat and close his eyes, to feel Kaneki’s teeth sink into the meat of his neck.

He must have been doing it without realizing, conscious desire giving way to physical response, a chain of chemical reactions that leads to Kaneki mouthing at his neck, lips hot and dry. Tsukiyama can feel the barest scrape of teeth, his heart jumping as Kaneki laps at the crook of his neck.

“Savoure-moi,” Tsukiyama half moans, only somewhat offended when Kaneki’s breath puffs out in a laugh.

“Patience,” Kaneki chides, each syllable hot against Tsukiyama’s neck. “Didn’t you say once that stewing brings about some of the best flavours? Let me take my time.”

“So you do listen to me.”

“Sometimes,” Kaneki says, and then he bites.

It’s not the way Tsukiyama would do it – not the way a ghoul would do it. Though there’s pain that blossoms, sweet and sharp, there’s no wet throb of blood, and when Kaneki pulls away his mouth is dry. It’s a picture of innocence, as strong a visual we as Kaneki’s dark hair once was, and Tsukiyama has to close his eyes against it.

“I’m not going to eat you,” Kaneki’s voice is light, free of emotion _–_ which seems unfair given how Tsukiyama’s breathing feels ragged, how achingly aroused he feels.

“Who else would be the dagger beneath my pillow?”

It’s hard to speak against that, harder still to force his eyes open, hoping to catch a glimpse of something – affection? – on Kaneki’s face. Instead all he sees is the downward slant of his hair as Kaneki considers Tsukiyama’s exposed cock.

Even though he’s expecting it, the first hesitant swipe of Kaneki’s tongue against him causes Tsukiyama to jolt upwards, hips straining. Kaneki jerks back, startled, and Tsukiyama feels the irregular urge to apologize.

He does not.

Instead he moans – loud, wanton, something that Kaneki knows is a show by the roll of his eyes – lifts his hips again, half-heartedly struggles against the ropes.

“Patience,” Kaneki reminds him, but his voice is rougher. His eyes catch Tsukiyama’s and he swallows, a miniscule moment that has Tsukiyama’s heart racing again. It’s ill-advised – Tsukiyama doesn’t have friends, certainly doesn’t have _lovers_ – but there’s nothing he can do to brace himself against the fondness he feels, and there’s no desire to do so.

This time, Tsukiyama keeps himself still, keeps himself from jerking upwards into Kaneki’s mouth. Kaneki’s teeth are sharp where they snag on tender flesh, but each unexpected frisson of pain of only serves to heighten the arousal Tsukiyama feels.

“Kaneki-kun,” – and oh, he sounds breathless – “when do I get to—”

“When I say,” Kaneki tells him, and Tsukiyama regrets asking, if only because it means that Kaneki has to stop to answer. “When you’re finished.”

Tsukiyama could be finished _now_ if he wants to. Kaneki’s mouth is not the most talented that Tsukiyama’s had, but there’s something nice about it, something that makes it good anyways.

_Because it’s Kaneki-kun_ a part of him supplies, and Tsukiyama clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes again, overwhelmed by the pleasure that thought brings. He can imagine it, Kaneki with a hand on his dick, Kaneki talking him through it, Kaneki on his back looking up at him while Tsukiyama pushes in and in and _in_ and when he comes it’s in Kaneki’s mouth with Kaneki’s name on his lips. Kaneki swallows and Tsukiyama shudders with it, keeps on shuddering as Kaneki leans over him, his arms a cage, and says—

“Now for the main course.”

His kiss is soft and sweet – _too much affection_ , Tsukiyama’s mind clamors, but he’s enjoying it all the same, the tenderness, the way he tastes mixed in with Kaneki’s saliva. For a moment he considers what it would be like to free his wrists, to hold Kaneki still so he can devour his mouth, but then Kaneki is pulling away, undoing the zipper on his pants, and Tsukiyama finds he likes where this is going.

“Don’t bite,” Kaneki warns and Tsukiyama wants to say that he wouldn’t, of course, not without permission (and where did _that_ come from), but with Kaneki pushing the blunt head of his cock against Tsukiyama’s lips, there’s nothing he can do but willingly open his mouth.

The taste is overwhelming; there’s nothing Tsukiyama could have done to prepare himself for it, the tantalizing flavor of Kaneki’s skin, so much better than he’d remembered. With his tongue pressed hard against the underside, Tsukiyama can trace a vein, taste the thrum of blood near the surface, the salty tang of Kaneki leaking in his mouth.

And then Kaneki, head bowed with his thighs spread over Tsukiyama’s head and hands braced against the headboard, begins to rock his hips slowly forward, a loose rhythm punctuated by the occasional breathy gasp. Something within Tsukiyama clicks then because it’s more than just sucking Kaneki off for stress relief, it’s more than a one-time thing. Kaneki _trusts_ him and yeah, Tsukiyama _knows_ that to an extent, but here’s Kaneki at his most vulnerable, most exposed, eyes shut, head tipping back (a mimic of Tsukiyama’s earlier display?) and Tsukiyama knows it now, as sure as the sunrise every morning – Kaneki _trusts him_.

He could eat Kaneki. He could eat Kaneki right now, a simple matter of biting through his dick, so full of flavor when he’s aroused, of using his kagune to pierce through him, skewer him into chunks to be savored. But he won’t, and Kaneki knows it – knew it before Tsukiyama’d ever thought to consider, always one step ahead, infuriating and compelling. Maybe this is why he swore himself to Kaneki that night, some part of him knowing that puzzling out Kaneki is the best challenge he’s had in years.

“I—” Kaneki starts to say, and Tsukiyama is jerked into the present just in time to taste Kaneki as he comes, hot and salty in Tsukiyama’s mouth. Kaneki’s blood tasted better, heady and thick, but this isn’t bad either, and when Kaneki pulls out of his mouth, Tsukiyama tells him _tres bien_ , just to see him roll his eyes.

“You liked it then,” Kaneki says, as he undoes Tsukiyama’s wrists and it takes a full beat of silence before Tsukiyama detects the note of apprehension in Kaneki’s voice.

“My dearest Kaneki-kun,” Tsukiyama croons, and as the last knot falls away, he catches Kaneki’s wrists in his hands, holds him still to feel the fragile bones beneath him. “You were _maestoso_.”

His kiss catches Kaneki off guard, but Tsukiyama can feel the exact moment that Kaneki realizes what he’s saying, what he’s _doing_ , and when he does he melts into it, boneless and soft and so very much like the boy Tsukiyama met all those months ago. They kiss for an eternity, until Tsukiyama feels he might get hard again, and only then does Kaneki pull away. He lingers for a moment, their breath mingling between them and then he’s gone, leaning away and leaving Tsukiyama with an ache he can’t place.

It doesn’t even occur to Tsukiyama that he’s still naked and in bed until Kaneki is dressed and about to leave. There are questions on his tongue – _stay_ , he wants to ask, or _what happened to you?_ , but before he can even think of how to frame it (jokingly, aloofly, as if he doesn’t care at all) Kaneki is gone, shutting the door softly behind him.


End file.
